


Movie Night

by nayanroo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cunnilingus, Everyone's Bisexual, F/M, Fluff, Movie Nights, Netflix and Chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:10:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4592412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nayanroo/pseuds/nayanroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda and Vision have standing movie night dates - Saturday nights are for them, whenever they can get away with it.  Work does creep in sometimes, though...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movie Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I did my best with your prompts, giftee! I hope you like it!

_Saturday July 18_  
1907 hours  
Star Trek 

“Which shall it be this time?”

Wanda hummed, and the vibration traveled along his side as she considered their options. Her hair was damp and fragrant from her shower, and while she thought, Vision turned his head and pushed his nose into it. Wanda's hair, when freshly washed and before she'd styled it, was a mass of brown curls touched with amber. His eyes could pick out each shade and render it into a hexadecimal code, but even high definition photographs could not capture Wanda perfectly. She was swirling red chaos and her whole being refused to be reduced down to programming.

Wanda picked up the remote from his lap and tapped over to one of the recommendations on Netflix. “This one,” she said. “This is the new _Star Trek_ movie, is it not?”

“Colonel Rhodes has very strong opinions about these recent movies and they are _not_ favorable.”

“Well, we liked that television series, the one with Picard...” Wanda shrugged and nestled under his arm, pulling the blanket around them both as she started the movie. “Why not try it? Look at the main character, he seems your type.”

“His face is symmetrical,” but Vision knew that wasn't what Wanda meant, and he smiled a little as she elbowed him in the side.

“And do you feel attracted to _me_ because my face is symmetrical?”

“I am not going to pretend that is the only reason, but if you want to know more...” he tapped his temple, and tightened his arm around her when Wanda grinned and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You know where to find it.”

It had taken him some time, but Vision had come to realize that the reason Wanda enjoyed movie nights so much was not for whatever they watched but for the ability to sit quietly, mind calm and heart warm. Her thoughts were no longer a scarlet maelstrom, but they were not the still waters of his mind; she felt safe enough with him to release her tension and let herself _be_ , and there was not a day that Vision was not grateful for her trust. Of all the Avengers she had been the first to see him as a complete person and not a curiosity. That had been the basis of their relationship; as far as he was concerned, the rest was an honor Wanda had bestowed on him.

When the movie was over, Vision went to ask a question, half a joke – _how much of Spock do you see in me?_ – and realized Wanda had dozed off, her hair falling into her face. The glitter in it went out when he turned off the television. She only stirred when Vision lifted her up into his arms, carrying her back into the bed they shared, and smiled at him when he set her down and pulled the blankets up over her.

“I will never forget the first time you carried me like that.” In the dimness her voice was throaty and low, thrumming through him as he went around turning off lights, folding the blanket they'd been nestled under. Wanda's eyes followed him until Vision finished up and slid into bed behind her.

They dreamed that night of the stars, of grand voyages and unshakable bonds.

*

_Saturday August 1_  
1945 hours  
Fantasia 

Vision had suggested it, and the more she watched the more Wanda was inclined to think that he had a stroke of genius. The visuals weren't important; she closed her eyes and let the music wash over her, bringing up emotions and then letting them go. It was incredibly soothing, and if the music swelled and her mind started to move too fast, she had her Vision, the centerpoint she could always count on to be a stable reference.

“It is so beautiful,” she heard him whisper, and couldn't tell if he was talking about the music or what was onscreen. Cartoonish as it was, there was something soothing and graceful about watching horses fly about. Flight had been her great accomplishment when she first became an Avenger, and all her advancements in the use and control of her powers (which seemed to be limitless) had not yet come close to the feeling of _freedom_ that hovering thirty feet above the rooftop had given her.

She twisted in Vision's arms and draped her legs across his lap, leaning her head on his shoulders when the segment was over. “I did not think you would get emotional about cartoons.”

“It is the feeling the music gives me. I have made a study of the various musical forms of Earth, which has informed our vacation destinations—“

“I remember when we went to Bali,” Wanda murmured, and hummed a bit, smiling in remembered pleasure but also in the recollection of fond memories. “You enjoyed the... gamelan music, was it?”

“Yes, I found the combination of percussive instruments quite interesting in the variety of tones it could produce.” The next segment started, but neither of them were paying attention. “And I enjoyed the puppet shows.”

_There are no strings on me—_ Wanda shook her head and tucked it against Vision's shoulder. “I liked the dancing, too.”

An image appeared in her mind of herself, watching a group of dancers with an expression of rapt attention on her face. The image was accompanied by what Vision had been feeling at the time, and Wanda stretched up and kissed his throat, his jaw, the corner of his mouth. 

“I remember you got very flustered when one of the dancers took you through a few steps.”

She flushed, her heart speeding up at the memory of the young woman's hands gently guiding her through the movements. “She was very pretty,” she mumbled against his skin. “Besides, you were not much better when the band leader asked how you liked the performance.”

“I found him aesthetically pleasing and his knowledge of his craft quite attractive.”

“I seem to recall you said much the same thing about me when I asked you why you were so interested in me.” That had not been such a pleasant conversation – after all, why would _anyone_ want her? - but Vision leaned over and kissed her long and slow as he pressed his feelings for her into her mind.

“You are unique among all humans,” he told her. “You are not only intelligent and very beautiful, but you have some... spark, something I cannot and do not want to quantify, because you cannot _be_ quantified. It is why I love you.”

“I love it when you talk like that,” she whispered against his mouth. Groping for the remote, Wanda turned off the television. They weren't going to finish the movie tonight if she had anything to say about it.

*

_Saturday November 6_  
2324 hours  
Sense8, episode 5 

She cried out, arching up into his mouth. Something clattered to the floor – probably the remote, Wanda had had her feet braced on the coffee table when he had sunk to his knees before her, the movie they had only half tried to watch long over and mostly forgotten now, lost in the feeling of Wanda's lips and Wanda's hands. Now he was caught up in her taste and smell and the feel of thighs made strong with training clamped tight around his head.

Vision kept his mouth on her, movements slow and steady until Wanda pushed him away with a hand, then pulled him up to her. “Want to taste,” she breathed, and kissed him hard and sloppy, and _oh_ , the rush of _feeling_ was nearly too much. When he pulled away Wanda's eyes were touched with scarlet, and her lips curled up into a dangerous smirk.

“Come on,” she hissed, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Come on, Vizh, I want _you_.”

Much later, Wanda dragged her fingers along the edges of one of the vibranium patches on his skin. Her mind whirled in tandem with his, warm and languid as the smile that touched her lips as he brushed hair away from her neck and kissed her skin, marveling at the feel of it.

“You and your obsession with sensations,” she murmured as she tilted her chin up so he could reach more.

“Every time it is different.” He pressed his lips to where her pulse still beat hard and strong under the skin, and she sighed. “I could never grow tired of you.”

“Good.” Wanda twisted, stroking his cheek with her hand. “Because I never want to let you go. I never want to be alone, I...”

“You will never have to be. I will always be here with you, Wanda.” He kissed her, fingers twisting into tangled brown hair, tugging just so until she sighed, her eyes half-closing.

“Do you promise?”

Vision pressed their foreheads together. “Until the stars burn out.”

*

_Sunday March 27_  
0142 hours  
Skyfall 

Phasing through the wall meant that he didn't have to use the door, and when he saw Wanda stretched out on the couch asleep he was glad for it. He'd told her at dinner that he wouldn't be much longer, but the debate had gone on and on, and now it all weighed heavily on Vision's soul. She was calm now in sleep, but she'd been angry earlier, fingertips glowing red with the strength of it. Seeing her asleep calmed him somewhat, and yet...

He shook his head and pulled another blanket off the pile by the couch. She'd curled up under the throw but that wasn't enough; Wanda liked to sleep warm, and he'd often warmed up his internal temperature and wrapped around her when she'd shivered in her sleep. He wished he could do that now, but he settled for carefully laying the blanket over her, trying not to wake her up. As he was pulling it up over her shoulders, though, she reached up and slipped her fingers into his hand.

“Has anything been decided?” she asked, her voice rough with sleep. Vision knelt beside her, stroking hair out of her face.

“Nothing yet. Go back to sleep, Wanda.”

Her eyelids flickered. “Do you not wish to join me? Are you not done?”

“I...” Vision had said that he would be back later, but when he'd left, Captain Rogers had been looking haggard and most others had seemed grateful for the break in the arguing, filtering away quickly out of the situation room. A quick scan of the building indicated some of them had already found their beds. He sat on the floor and leaned his head against her arm. “I think I am.”

She smiled at him a bit sadly and tucked their hands up under her chin. “Good. Stay with me, my Vision. It seems that the universe wishes to drag you away from me, but I will have you as long as I can.”

The pain in her voice tugged at his heart, and if he had any lingering doubts about his own humanity they would have been gone. Vision pulled their hands back and kissed her knuckles. “I made you a promise,” he told her. “I would be with you until the stars burned out. They still shine above us, for all that Thanos seems bent on extinguishing them.”

“He is bent on extinguishing _you_ , and whatever those fools decide, I will not let it happen, not while I draw breath.”

Wanda had let her voice become dark and angry and he soothed her, long and gentle kisses and the calming press of his mind until he felt her lips curve up into a smile.

“I am not going to go haring off into space after him, do not worry. I am powerful, not reckless.”

“Sometimes I do wonder. About the latter, of course. I have quantifiable data that you are exceptionally powerful.”

“Ah, so it is flattery.” Wanda lifted her head and then dropped it back into his lap when Vision took the hint and sat at the end of the couch. “I do love it when you flatter me, though.”

“And I intend to keep doing so for many, many years. For the rest of our years, in fact.”

“Good.” Wanda reached up, tracing his jaw, the line of his lips, and he closed his eyes and bent his head to her. “Because I will love you for the rest of our years, my Vision, and nothing will change that.”


End file.
